Fallen from favor, and their Orders dishonored,
A bargain struck, a friendship earned,
Krath of the Clan of Death, and an Obelisk of her Arconae ally,
Beware of those wearing a mask, Brotherhood be wary.

Sister clans together in turmoil, assisting but untrusting,
Grand Masters’ orders, the Undesirables’ cleansing,
Betrayal by the hand of a friend, fallen is the magic forever mourned,
Iron throne upheld by blood, the friendship of sister clans be torn.

An ancient tether snapped.
An alliance, easily unmade.
And all in the space of time
As the flash of a hand grenade.

We stumble 'pon the dark abyss
In a sea of turmoil and dark.
Our Consuls seek the mend us
With words we must now hark.

A new alliance, forged again
With bonds yet tighter still.
A plan to kill tyrant Pravus
....but who then his boots will fill?

He sat in his quarters staring at nothing, slowly turning the bottle in his hands. He felt the rises in the glass that gave various information about volume and alcoholic ratio. Ridges ran around the base ostensibly to give the bottle style and make it more difficult to slide across flat surfaces in an effort to avoid tragedies. To say Bleu had destroyed bottles much like this many times in the past was an understatement, he'd both started and ended fights with them. "Kill tha Grandmaster, sure," he muttered as he popped the top of it off and proceeded to drink. Only person he was likely to hurt in a fight like this was himself.

Today everyone forgets how useful a dagger is. Easy to use, easy to hide. It doesn't make noise like a light saber and can make an unexpected move.

Nath sat hunched over, her hands clenching and relaxing slowly.

She had decided.

There was a certain satisfaction in killing things with your bare hands, watching slowly as the life drained away. The emotions and stages could be observed, in those moments you saw who you were really killing.

She wanted to see whom she loathed and whom wanted so passionately to see her family’s extinction.

"I'll draw you, my Ryyk Blade, and you'll slam Pravus in the face, right before piercing his darkened heart. You've served me well when facing my enemies, now we'll face an enemy of us all. Let his poisened blood flow! Let his screams echo for years to come! You, my Ryyk Blade will end his reign."

I first picked up my DC-17 during my time as a slave. It was the first thing I ever owned once I escaped. It doesn't complain when I kill, it doesn't scream when I escape, it doesn't question my motives or examine my methods. What would be more fitting, then, than to kill a man who isn't reliable; to kill a man that questions all, trusts nothing, and hoards power at the expense of others? This weapon is my life, and my life will end his.